With all the hail pelting down from dark grey skies here in Amsterdam, our trip to sunny Barcelona and Cadaques seems eons ago, but we’ve in fact only been back for a couple of weeks now.

The conference that brought us to China last year was held in Barcelona this September. And coincidentally, Matt’s Mom and Brian were looking to make a trip over to Europe around the same time, so we all met up post-WYSTC at a great little find of an apartment (thanks go to Nancy) with a rooftop terrace and a view on the Sagrada Familia. Fortuitously, the trip also coincided with the annual Merce Festival, of which the most memorable experience was certainly the Correfoc.

The word home may as well have it’s own category on this blog. The number of posts that mention some sort of thought about it or a new kick of homesickness outnumber the amount of posts on Amsterdam. At least it’s a close race. You really do find yourself thinking about almost constantly here, which really isn’t a surprise. It’s a natural meditation of moving anywhere. I’m not talking about the broader meaning right now though. Like stacking dolls, the one I’m talking about is the tiny cozy one in the centre. The smallest form of the word. The one where you curl up on the couch with a book; the one where you put all your worldly possessions in.

“Mawwage. Mawwage is what bwings us together today. Wove, twue wove… So tweasure your woves forever”.

Sorry for the radio silence, we’re a bit slow these days. They forget to mention exhaustion and illness coming after marriage in the nursery rhyme. I guess it doesn’t flow as well as the whole baby carriage thing. We’re now exactly one month to the day after our wedding and it’s hard to know where to begin with a blog post about it. We are just normalizing; getting back in the game; finding our footing and other random metaphors. We just found time for our first round of “thank you” notes with many more to come.

Spring is well and truly here in Amsterdam, and even though it’s not particularly warm yet, its already next to impossible finding outdoor seats at cafes. We may be wrapped in scarves and still require mittens the odd morning, but everyone is determined to soak in every bit of sun possible. We’ve made a few failed attempts to snag a coveted sunny spot, each time lying to ourselves that we’re just as happy to take a seat indoors. If this keeps up, I’m going to resort to camping out in advance of opening hours.